An Interview with Balbir Mathir by Roderick
MacIver
Sacrifice is at the Core of Sacredness.
An Interview with Balbir Mathur by Roderick MacIver
Years ago I read this in a little newsletter called "Life Lines" published by the
organization called Trees for Life:
At Trees for Life we experience miracles every day.
Yet each time I am still amazed.
Three years ago Balbir (Mathur) and I were in a small village in Orissa, India.
The villagers welcomed us with songs and flower garlands.
After introductions, the village leaders sat down with us. “Our land is very
degraded and we are very poor,” they said. “If our children were educated they
could get jobs, but there is not enough money for their school. It’s like a
trap, and we can’t break free. What can we do?”
Balbir closed his eyes, listening intently with great reverence. Then he spoke.
“If you will donate some very poor land to your school, we can help you regenerate
that land, and it can provide income for the school,” he said.
Several villagers started grumbling. “Our lands have been divided and passed
down for generations,” they argued. “How could our people give up their inheritance?”
Balbir spread his hands. “Nothing comes without sacrifice. The more important
the task, the greater the sacrifice.”
Treva Mathur
After reading this, I called Balbir, Treva’s husband, and asked
him about sacrifice. This is what he said:
“From time immemorial, spiritual leaders of all faiths have
told us that anything worthwhile requires a sacrifice. Nothing happens without
a sacrifice. Sacrifice is such an essential part of the equation of life. In
order for a mother to give birth to a child, she has to sacrifice. A sperm germinates
an egg, it has to lose its identity. A seed, to grow, has to lose itself. A
candle can only give light if it burns itself out.
“The act of religious fasting, by its very act, acquires sacredness. Sacrifice
is the cornerstone of life. When we say that life is sacred, that implies that
it demands sacrifice. Sacrifice is the core of sacredness. What we sacrifice
is what becomes sacred to us. Without sacrifice, nothing becomes sacred.”
That village now has a school, as do nineteen other communities
who followed similar courses of action. Trees for Life is a worldwide movement
that encourages people’s inner potential through providing fruit and other trees
to communities in developing countries. To find out more, visit their website
or write to Trees for Life 3006 West St Louis, Wichita, Kansas, 67203.
From Issue 10:
Occasionally someone passes through our lives whose message, we come to understand,
can change our way of thinking and living. That doesn't happen often in a lifetime,
even to the most adventurous and exploratory among us. When it has happened
to me, my first response tends to be one of skepticism, but with the elapse
of time, the message builds a power of its' own. I come to see how closely it
fits the challenges of my life -- the parts of my life that don't work well.
Then the struggle becomes to incorporate it into my day-to-day existence. There
is always the option of turning your back on the message, but somehow you know
that doing this means turning your back on life.
A few days ago I met with Frederic Back and Balbir Mathur. They are men of love
and humility. Frederic made the film The Man Who Planted Trees, among
others. Balbir's work is Trees for Life, an organization that provides
fruit tree seedlings and training to rural farmers in developing countries:
"planting love one tree at a time." So far a million people have planted fifty
million trees. A friend introduced me to Balbir and I introduced Balbir to Frederic.
Now Frederic is helping Balbir make a film about the work and history of Trees
for Life, I have much to learn from these men. With them, one can feel
the energy underlying our lives—that energy of harmony and forgiveness
and love. I experienced it—really felt it, could almost touch it—with
them.
I interviewed Balbir for a future issue of Heron Dance.
Earlier, Balbir had briefly referred to the fortuitous events that are constantly
helping him in his work. So during the interview, when I asked him about his
belief in God, I was a little surprised that he avoided the question. An hour
or so later, spontaneously, he said:
I believe that most religious talk divides
people. Religious conversion is often a form of violence, but, of course, I
am in a spiritual rowboat.... I call my boat Surrender -- complete surrender
to the will of the Greater Power. My two oars are instant forgiveness and gratitude
-- complete gratitude for the gift of life.
In addition, expressing myself through words has taken
a back seat. The natural world and my art now occupy my thoughts and dreams.
Trying to express myself and my life through my art has become the dominant
aspect of my work life. I am trying to do with my art what I imagine in my mind.
I keep thinking that I am close and then I sit down to paint and realize, “Auch!
I am a long way away!” But, this challenge is what makes it worthwhile
and a challenge I love. I believe if I just spend enough time at it, what I
see in my mind will ultimately come out on the paper.
I serve. I do the dance I must. I plant trees but I am
not the doer of this work. I am the facilitator, the instrument. I am one part
of the symphony. I know there is an overall scheme to this symphony that I cannot
understand. In some way, we are each playing our own part. It is not for me
to judge or criticize the life or work of another. All I know is that this is
my dance. I would plant trees today even if I knew for a certainty that the
world would end tomorrow. Describing light to a blind man will not help
the blind man. It is frustrating to put it into words -- like trying to put
the dance of a butterfly into words. You can only describe the beauty you see.
People who wish to see it will see it. Trying to convert others is a violent
act and denies the beauty of the dance.
Balbir Mathur, Director, Trees for Life, an organization that
has helped rural villagers around the world plant tens of millions of fruit
trees. (October 1996, Heron Dance)
From issue 11: Balbir Mathur: Planting Love
One Tree At A Time
Trees for Life, Balbir says, is not an
activity.
It is about gratitude for the Gift of Life
It came out of one man's surrender to his dance
It is about empowerment.
I met Balbir in Montreal where he was meeting
with Frederic Back, creator of the film The Man Who Planted Trees. Frederic
is helping Balbir make a film of his work. During dinner, Balbir explained that
he was recently diagnosed with diabetes and couldn't eat fruit. That seemed
ironic—that the man who has orchestrated the planting of tens of millions
of fruit trees around the world—couldn't eat fruit. The next day, during
our interview, Balbir started by talking about that.
When you asked me last night if I could eat
fruit you hit on something very important. We are not here to eat the fruit,
but to do our dance. We do what we do because that is how we are designed. If
I knew for a certainty that the world would end tomorrow, I would still plant
a fruit tree today.
I asked Balbir if the fruit of his work might be happiness,
and if he was not eating that fruit.
"Considering happiness as a fruit is fine, but I think I would
plant fruit trees even if I was unhappy. It is easy to get lost in the nuances,
but we do not do an action because we are focused on the results. We do an action
and take the consequences as they are. That is the journey. We act because we
believe that the action is what we are supposed to be doing here, what our duty
is. Planting fruit trees is my dance."
Balbir grew up in India, the son of an army officer. His family
was Hindu. As a boy he had an experience that had a profound effect on his life:
I was ten years old, riding a bicycle along a river bank.
Since my father was an officer, an orderly accompanied me. Two Britishers came
riding by -- eighteen, nineteen year old kids -- and I started riding with them.
They turned to me and uttered an obscenity in Hindi. In surprise I looked at
them and said `What?' At that they got down, and forced me off my bike and slapped
me. Both of them. Very, very hard. I can still feel it. I looked to this orderly
behind me for help. The orderly just stood there. The Britishers were the masters.
At first Balbir wanted revenge. Over time, his anger turned
to curiosity: What was the source of their power? Over the next forty years,
Balbir came to see their power as springing from their command of tools. He
came to understand human history as the history of tools. The people with the
superior tools dominated, exploited and often exterminated their neighbors.
First it was fire, and the humans that learned how to harness it gradually expanded
their range throughout the world. Next came the plough which enabled agricultural
peoples to dominate and often exterminate hunter/gatherers so that after a few
hundred years, only a few, isolated pockets remained.
Next came the industrial revolution. As Balbir says:
"Motors and engines gave men a thousand times the power they
had up until then, and the humans that possessed this technology quickly reorganized
themselves and dominated all others who did not know this. People in India,
when I was growing up sixty years ago, did not possess this secret. Agriculture
freed large numbers of people from the daily effort to gather and hunt food,
and industrialization permitted people to acquire and employ highly specialized
skills."
Because the planet's population was small, the information
on fire took a few hundred thousand years to spread around the world. The information
on agriculture took four or five thousand years to spread to all people. The
information on industrialization has taken two hundred years to spread to most
peoples on the earth.
Since the Second World War, three new, major tools have
been discovered, and each is as significant as the domestication of fire itself.
The silicon chip has allowed the reduction of all information to either zero
or one. If the power of the discovery of the plough was ten times that of the
discovery of fire, and the industrial revolution at one thousand, the potential
power of the digitization of information is one million times anything we have
ever discovered.
The second revolution is communication: fax machines,
computers connected around the world, e-mail. This too is rated at one million.
The third discovery is the understanding of the atomic process. If one activates
two and two activates four and those four energize eight, in a very short time
something big happens. We are just beginning to understand these concepts, and
our societies are in the earliest stages of reorganizing around them. The powers
we are just beginning to understand are not one million plus one million plus
one million, but one million times one million times one million. It may take
a hundred years to grasp their power.
Since that morning several months ago, I have come to see many
things in my work differently. When I am in prisons, I see people who lack a
command of the new technology. When I am with kids in the inner city, I think
of the per-capita expenditure on education, which is a fraction of that in upper
income suburbs. Similar discrepancies exist in health care. When I hear of women
in Indonesian getting $1 a day to make $100 running shoes, I think of the exploitation
by those with the technology of those without it. So much of who we are depends
on our relationship to the new tools. It cuts across racial lines—we are
just as likely to find hopelessness in Appalachia as in North Philadelphia.
Drug and alcohol abuse, suicide, child abuse, spousal abuse spring out of that
hopelessness. Trees for Life empowers people.
Underlying the work of Trees for Life is a spirituality,
but I had difficulty getting a description of It. In India, and elsewhere, Balbir
said, politicians use religious divisions to manipulate people and power. This
is some of our dialogue on these subjects.
Rod: Do you believe there is a God.
Balbir: Who knows?
Rod: Does that mean no? You do not believe there is
a God?
Balbir: I cannot answer your question. I am not a theologian.
I do not understand those concepts. I do not live in those concepts. I do not
worry about what others have to say. I have simplified my life to just three
principles, which I try to practice. I cannot say I have mastered them. I attempt.
I fall, I falter and I attempt.
This boat I travel in is called Surrender. I have nothing to
achieve. Whatever comes is there and I enjoy it. The two oars that take my boat—one
is instant forgiveness. I get angry, I get mad, but as soon as I remind myself
to put my oars in action I forgive. The second oar is tremendous gratitude.
I am thankful for the experience of this life, for the opportunity to dance.
Rod: To what do you surrender?
Balbir: The act of surrendering is so important that who you
surrender to becomes insignificant. It is the surrender itself that is important.
At different times you surrender to different things. Whatever it is, we will
enjoy the moment the way it is. Call it God, call it Spirit, call it the love
energy, call it by whatever pigeon hole you want—but you surrender to
life as it is, without demanding anything. If life is the master, I am the dancer.
However I can serve, I do serve.
Rod: There seems to be a recognition that there is
a spiritual force involved somehow.
Balbir: Yes, but those that experience it need no words and
for those that cannot, words will do no good. Why talk about it? Describing
light to a blind man will not help the blind man. It is frustrating to put it
into words -- like trying to put the dance of a butterfly into words. You can
only describe the beauty you see. People who wish to see it will see it. Trying
to convert others is a violent act and denies the beauty of the dance.
Rod: How much connection in your life is possible with
people who cannot see the beauty? Do you forget about them?
Balbir: No. Oh no. I dance with them just as I dance with those
I have a connection with. A man who cuts trees has just as valid an experience
as one who plants a tree. The dance, the orchestra of the spirit, needs all
instruments, including those who play different tunes. I cannot see the mystery.
I cannot see what the Master is doing with the orchestra. I play my instrument
as well as I can. I won't let my part in this orchestra fall down. The drums
might not sound good to someone playing the piano, but that drum has just as
valid a reason in that orchestra as anyone else.
Rod: But some people give you energy and some take
it away. How do you relate with people who take it away?
Balbir: There are two aspects -- the physical and spiritual.
In the physical realm we have such limited time energy. That is reality. Psychologically
you can be friends but lack the time and energy to spend with them. There is
no contradiction in that.
You have left one shore and you need all your energy to get
to the other side. You need not be dragged behind by the other energy. One day
you become a bridge.
Rod: Do you believe we get help in our work?
Balbir: Not help in my work. My work is dictated. I am a servant.
I am not the doer. The moment I become doer, I have failed.
Rod: Do you experience synchronicity in your work?
Balbir: All of the time. Not some of the time -- all of the
time.
Rod: How do you raise money? Does that side of <em>trees
for life</em> take care of itself? Do you ask people for money?
Balbir: I share the information with people as simply as I can,
and when it comes, it comes and when it does not come it doesn't come. We are
not dependent, we cannot become dependent. We must not ask. We are not beggars.
Money is critical. That is the reality. One cannot be for it
or against it, but one has to understand its role. We need money like we need
a skin on our body, but my skin is not my soul. The confusion occurs, and it
occurred in my life, when money dominates us. (Balbir was, at one time, a successful
consultant, negotiating joint ventures between U.S. companies and firms overseas).
Once we understand that we can deal with it on a day to day basis.
I do not consider my work to be any more important than any
other work or if it does not take place, the world will come to an end. I let
people know what we are doing, and then whatever comes is put to use. But we
will do irrespective of whether or not there is money.
Balbir calls the process Knocking gently on the door
and I saw in it action. I interviewed Balbir during a weekend when the two of
us were visiting Frederic Back, the artist who made the film The Man Who
Planted Trees. Sunday morning we visited Frederic's daughter, Suzel, and
her husband. When we got there, Suzel showed us some of the beautiful murals
of dyed fabric she had made. Balbir told us of the long history of batik in
India. After seeing her work, he described the involvement of Trees
for Life in leper colonies in India. Skills like hers are badly needed
in India, he said. A school could be set up and and expensive fabrics produced
for the garment industry. The dance, as Balbir calls it, is worthwhile. Several
months after our meeting, I received a letter from Frederic saying Suzel is
going to India to teach.
The whole life of these trees is to serve. With their leaves,
flowers, fruits, branches, roots, shade, fragrance, sap, bark, wood, and finally
even their ashes and coal, they exist for the purpose of others.
- Srimad Bhagavatam
From Issue 20:
After returning from the woods, I went to Wichita to spend a week with my guru
and Heron Dance director, Balbir Mathur. Balbir and his wife Treva
kindly put me up in their home. In the early morning darkness, Balbir and I
would go out for walks. Balbir wouldn't offer advice, but would share perspectives.
I call him my guru because he challenges me -- forces me to examine my assumptions,
my motivations, and the boundaries of my thought processes.
Fourteen years ago, Balbir founded Trees for Life in
an office loaned by his wife's church. For the first several years he and his
wife persevered on almost no money. Since then, the organization has orchestrated
the planting of tens of millions of fruit trees in rural third world communities,
and touched millions of lives.
The dance of Trees for Life, Balbir says,
is empowerment. Their means is communication -- the sharing of medical
information, information on how to establish tree nurseries and grow fruit trees
and on the construction and operation of schools. Their purpose is not to help,
but to accompany people on their journey. If the rural villagers in India or
Guatemala that Trees for Life comes into contact with want to escape
the cycle of poverty and illiteracy, Trees for Life can provide some
tools for them to do that, or tools to make the tools.
Trees for Life is staffed mostly by volunteers who
also live together in The Treehouse—a house rented by Trees for Life.
Not only do many work and live together, they sometimes also get together to
socialize and sing, or to worship on Sunday, although they come from a variety
of different religious traditions including Hindu, agnostic, Brethren, Mennonite,
Roman Catholic and Baha'i. Every morning starts with a meeting at which a silent
prayer and hugs are shared. Our work comes after, comes out of, our spiritual
life, says Balbir. A palpable undercurrent of good energy pervades their
work and relations with each other.
It surprised me when people at Trees for Life said
they work there not to change the world, or fight world hunger, but because
there they are given freedom to develop their potential. From Balbir they receive
the constructive criticism that forces them to constantly grow, to explore new
realities. One or two described working with Balbir as 'having sandpaper constantly
rubbed against your face.'
In Wichita, in a school building rented to Trees for Life
by the city for ten dollars a year, they produce videos, are involved in animation,
the preparation of posters, web sites and other educational material. They create
communication tools that can be easily adapted by remote villages in Third World
countries so that those villages can then pass the information on to other villages,
and so on. They see the internet as a potentially powerful tool in that process.
A website that shows how to build and operate a tree nursery, for instance,
is being designed in Wichita in a way that it can then be adapted by people
in Africa and India to their own languages and cultures, so that ultimately
the information will be widespread. One tells two who tell two more, and so
on. That is how all those trees got planted.
Early in my week there, Balbir told me that he is constantly
checking with himself: I am not master, I am servant. When I am doing
work that is based on what I want people to have, or do, the work fails and
should fail. I am here to offer what others recognize as important.
When I asked him if that applied not only to rural villagers
in India, but also to donors and the people who work at Trees for Life,
he agreed. What kind of stage should I build, he said, and
how can I build it, that will enable people to do their own unique dance?
The low-key, accepting way that Trees for Life relates to the world
is responsible, in large part I think, for the widespread support it gets from
people and institutions that have benefited from the System.
I asked Balbir several questions about the dance,
about innovation and creativity. These are some of his comments:
To us, the dance of the spirit is most important. It is the manifestation
of the immense latent possibilities that exist within us. That edge, that cusp
where this process takes place, where this battle takes place, where this tension
takes place, is what I am interested in. It is a state of diving into our subconscious.
The cusp between the conscious and the subconsciousthat gray areais
where creativity happens.
The sculptor has an idea and takes ordinary clay and creates
something unique. You write and you draw. That is a manifestation of the spirit.
I can't paint. I can't sculpt or sketch or draw a straight line. I am not an
artist. My job is to provide a stage where innovative people can express their
innovation, express their dance. Each one is doing their dance in their own
way....
For us, creativity is not an intellectual exercise. Everything
that we do has the intent of some action, of introducing some innovative process.
Some are creating videos. Others are renovating this school building.
(Contractors estimated that the cost of renovating the school would be $500,000.
Trees for Life is doing the work, including constructing living quarters
for volunteers, with donated materials and volunteer labor.)